A Quote by Eusebio
Mourinho knows me! He sat in my lap as a little boy, and wanted his photograph taken with me. I knew his father and so I bounced little Jose on my knee. He always looked up to me.
Related Quotes
Who will cry for the little boy, lost and all alone?
Who will cry for the little boy, abandoned without his own?
Who will cry for the little boy? He cried himself to sleep.
Who will cry for the little boy? He never had for keeps.
Who will cry for the little boy? He walked the burning sand.
Who will cry for the little boy? The boy inside the man.
Who will cry for the little boy? Who knows well hurt and pain.
Who will cry for the little boy? He died and died again.
Who will cry for the little boy? A good boy he tried to be.
Who will cry for the little boy, who cries inside of me?
When he was born, I looked at my little boy and felt an unconditional love I never knew was inside me. As he grew, and I watched him stagger about, squeak his first words, and turn into a beautiful little boy, that feeling did not change.
There was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife.
Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there.
When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said,
“Nothing, I just helped him cry.²”
“Even after all this time
the sun never says to the earth
“You owe me”
Look what happens with a love like that,
It lights the whole sky..”
During my second year at Madrid, Jose Mourinho gave me a kick up the backside. I wasn't doing well, I wasn't managing to do what he wanted me to out on the pitch. So he chided me, saying: 'Why don't you run in training?' My first reaction was to mutter, 'Oh come on... ' But I knew he was right, I had more to give.
At Christmas time I sat on Santa's lap. His fly was open ! Boy what a present he gave me !
I am graven on the palms of His hands. I am never out of His mind. All my knowledge of Him depends on His sustained initiative in knowing me. I know Him, because He first knew me, and continues to know me. He knows me as a friend, One who loves me; and there is no moment when His eye is off me, or His attention distracted for me, and no moment, therefore, when His care falters.
I knew he would never leave me, never let me down-because the man had never abandoned anything in his long life. If I hadn’t taken the gold rope of our bond, I knew Adam would have sat on me and hog-tied me with it. I liked that. A lot.
My father being a theatre person used to compose music for his plays. He noticed me singing one of his compositions at a young age and he was amazed. From then on, he taught me the little things that he knew about music.
The Little Mute Boy The little boy was looking for his voice. (The king of the crickets had it.) In a drop of water the little boy was looking for his voice. I do not want it for speaking with; I will make a ring of it so that he may wear my silence on his little finger In a drop of water the little boy was looking for his voice. (The captive voice, far away, put on a cricket's clothes.) Translated by William S. Merwin
I always knew it was ill-fated, but he truly believed I would be his bride. I guess I'd never realized that before. He had taken my mucker hand and looked at my mottled face and believed we would wed. And he hadn't seemed sorry. In fact, he'd swooped me up in a corridor and kissed me. That set me to crying.
Dad sometimes patted me on the knee and called me his Little Schmuck.
A certain monk told me that when he was very sick, his mother said to his father, "How our little boy is suffering. I would gladly give myself to be cut up into pieces if that would ease his suffering." Such is the love of God for people. He pitied people so much that he wanted to suffer for them, like their own mother, and even more. But no one can understand this great love without the grace of the Holy Spirit.
Weeks passed, and the little Rabbit grew very old and shabby, but the Boy loved him just as much. He loved him so hard that he loved all his whiskers off, and the pink lining to his ears turned grey, and his brown spots faded. He even began to lose his shape, and he scarcely looked like a rabbit any more, except to the Boy. To him he was always beautiful, and that was all that the little Rabbit cared about. He didn't mind how he looked to other people, because the nursery magic had made him Real, and when you are Real shabbiness doesn't matter.
I used to watch my father play the guitar and sing when I was a little boy. By the time I was 11, I knew what I wanted to do. My father really couldn't afford to spend $12 for a guitar for me, but he did. It was like an ordinary family spending $500 for a kid's gift.
I definitely did not fail at Chelsea. I always had my chance, scored important goals in the first season. At the end I just wanted the transfer, although Jose Mourinho wanted me to stay.
I remember once I went to go see a movie, and in front of me in line there was a little boy who looked so eager to see it, like it was Christmas morning. When he got to the ticket booth it turned out there was only one ticket left; the manager was there and wanted to give it to me instead since I was famous. That's when I knew I'd hit it big.
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